Letter B

First Impressions

These last two weeks have been a bit of a blur. Breastfeeding, family visits, breastfeeding, sleeping, not sleeping, playing with Mr. Manic aka Lowell, breastfeeding, watching baseball, staring at the most perfect little face on the planet, swaddling, breastfeeding, sleeping, not sleeping. Through it all I've been thinking of things that I wanted to write posts about but of course I've had little time to even sit at the computer let alone germinate anything long enough to write coherently. Here are a few things I would post long and hard about if I had a clone:

1. Somehow when anticipating Willa's arrival, I forgot about the absolute joy of newborns. I was focusing so much on the downside of going back to square one that I completely forgot that I love sweet little babies and I was going to have one of my very own again. The minute she was in my arms I wanted to give myself a big slap on the head. Riiiiight. Babies are awesome!

2. The first night in the hospital I had Willa in bed with me and I could not stop kissing and nuzzling her. It was almost trance-like. I had no choice, I had to keep snuggling and touching her and breathing in her wonderful scent. It's an amazing thing when instinct takes over. Nothing makes me realize more that we are mammals than giving birth and taking care of a newborn.

3. Lowell is doing really well but obviously going through a variety of feelings. He is very tender with his little sister and proud of being a big brother but he's also having really manic episodes and epic tantrums with us. It's been really tough trying to remember to give him more love and patience than usual when we're all being thrown for a loop. I wish there was some magic way to make it easier for him.

4. A few days after coming home from the hospital I came into Lowell's room when Matthew was putting him to bed. I was holding Willa and went to kiss Lowell goodnight. He threw his hands up to me and cried "Mommy, help me!" with utter sadness and confusion in his voice. I gave the baby to Matthew and sat down on the floor and hugged and rocked Lowell and started to cry. I rarely cry in front of Lowell but if I do he will ask me what's wrong. This time he didn't ask because I think he knew what I was feeling. He was feeling it too. We had a good thing going, Lowell and I, and as joyful as it is to have his sister here it's still a heartbreaking loss.

5. I thought that because we would have less time to focus on Willa we might not be able to enjoy her babyhood as much. But it turns out we're actually able to enjoy her just as much because the whole experience is so much more relaxed this time around. There is so much less anxiety with Project Keep-Alive 2.0 that we both just get to marvel and love her without all the freakouts about rashes, gurgle sounds and crying. It helps that she is sleeping nice long stretches at night right now. Nothing helps you love a newborn more than sleep.

Willa Taaffe

Emerging from Newbornville to post some details and pictures. Willa Taaffe arrived Thursday morning. My water broke at about 1 AM and at 4:30 AM I was holding her in my arms, shocked beyond belief. She was 7 lbs, 15 oz and 19 inches of absolute gorgeousness. We are so happy. I'll post the whole story later, should only take me two or three paragraphs. Holy Christ it went fast.

Willa was a name we considered for Lowell way back before we knew he was a boy. We had some others picked out for her but after she came out it was pretty obvious that she was Willa. Taaffe (rhymes with "safe") is my grandmother's maiden name. She'll have Matthew's last name, which starts with "F." So yes, we knowingly, although not purposely, gave our daughter the initials "WTF." I figure she'll either think it's funny or she'll have one more thing to hate us for.

Okay, back to nursing. Hope to post again soon. Like this year.

How-Two

Please allow me to vent for one moment. Here is my message to you, Indian Summer: Blow me. 85 degrees with high humidity in October is not just ridiculous it borders on unseemly. Please commence average autumn temperatures at once or you'll be hearing from my uh, solicitor. Good day.

Ahem. Now on to what I really wanted to post about.

Last weekend some friends had a lovely shower brunch for me. After eating my weight in french toast casserole (oh-la-la!) I asked them for advice on having a second since most of them are moms of more than one. Here is some of what they told me:

1. Give up the guilt. Inevitably you will have feelings of guilt because you just can't be everything to both of them. The guilty feelings need to be put in a box and sent away because you're doing the best you can.

2. It's good to have a car with a big enough back seat where they can't touch each other when in their carseats.

3. You don't have to be the perfect mom, just good enough. Your standards will slide and your energy will fail but ultimately your kids will be fine.

4. Duct tape.

5. Ask for help when you need it because people will not offer it as readily this time around. And really, ask for help, you will need it.

6. Try to remember during rough times that you are giving them both something really special: a sibling relationship.

7. Don't feel bad about having really negative thoughts about your firstborn. They can be real pains when the baby comes and it's okay to really, really not like them at times.

8. If they both start crying at the same time, change rooms. Whether you bring them along is your call.

When we were sitting there I was honestly moved to tears. Because, okay, one, I am pregnant, but two because I realized they were speaking to the fears I was having but not really dealing with consciously. I am very scared about being able to be a good mom to two when there are days I am barely able to scrape up the stuff to handle one. I know that I'll be able to do it simply because there's no other choice but it was comforting to hear that they were able to get through it and come out of it with such sensible things to say. If any of you have advice to add I'd love to hear it. Now I'm off to go sit in the one room in the house that still has an air conditioner installed in it. I'm watching you, October. Shape up.

"Taste the Fear" OR "My Dad Cracks Me Up"

My dad turns 60 today. Although I think it is giving him pause I can only say it's about freaking time. It's embarrassing sometimes how young my parents are (both were child brides they will tell you). And then they both went and remarried teenagers who, you know, keep them even younger with their crazy rock and roll and mod fashions.

While I plan on giving my dad his first granddaughter for his birthday (awww) I am sad to be missing the party this weekend in Chicago. Please take a moment to read the invite (click for full-size) because it's hilarious. My old man is a card, I tell you. And if you're in the area, go buy him a drink. He undoubtedly won't need it (drunken Irish senior citizen alert) but I'm sure he'll offer up a really embarrassing story about me in return.

I love you, Dad. Happy Birthday.

I'm Your Man, Dumas

Got out and inflated the birthing ball today. (A birthing ball is just an exercise ball but "birthing ball" sounds so Lamazian, not to mention more accurate as I sure as heck ain't doing sit-ups on the thing). As soon as it was inflated I sat down on it and sighed. I am not sure why it works but there is nothing more comfortable to sit on when this pregnant. The ball was my friend during labor with Lowell, the only thing that worked to keep me going out of my freaking mind when I was contracting, so I got a wee bit tearful thinking back as I got comfy. (By the way if you like birth stories I did write Lowell's up - available here - but if you don't like them for god's sake don't read it because it's graphic and entirely unladylike). I would sit on this thing all day long if I could but, man, ball-obsessed preschoolers just don't do well being told that the world's largest ball is off-limits to them. (I can't wait for the Google searches I am going to get with that sentence).

Woke up with a cold on Sunday. Less said about it the better. Just one thing, you know what really, really, really sucks? Having a raging sore throat AND bubbling heartburn. Pregnancy is just so damn glamorous. *Repositions squat on big-ass ball, burps*

New development. As of today we are a two-car family. We lost the battle to own just one and as happy as I am to now have a car everyday, I am a little depressed about it. Numero duo is a beater, 1994 Subaru, for Matthew's commute. His commute is 10 minutes but across a major waterway and there is no real way to do public transportation that didn't turn his 10 minutes into an hour-plus odyssey. And after a year, still no one wants to do a car pool. Argh. I don't know why it's bugging me so much (well actually I do but I don't want to sound like a sanctimonious whiner so I'll skip it) but no doubt I'll get over it. Just couldn't fathom doing the newborn and preschooler thing without access to wheels on a regular schedule. You know what's funny was when Matthew was telling me about the car he found that was in our budget, I was all, yeah, a '94, not that old. Uh, yeah, that's almost 14 years old, Dumas. I still think that the 90's were like 5 minutes ago. (Weren't they? Is it just me?)